The Sound Of One Hand Clapping
by wreakhavoc
Summary: When the goth zen girl meets all fma bad boy envy havoc ensues and we learn the meaning of one hand clapping R&R please.No flames thanks..
1. Chapter 1

My name is Cal. Calsephone, its incredibly weird. Anyhow, moving on now, I'm obsessed with Zen. I love it, it really explains things. It can be odd, because it's really prepared. Me? Feh. You wish.

That day started like any other day. I dreamt I was flying and had lost my parents in the ocean. It was great. When I woke up, it was raining.

I swore, hurriedly got dressed and snatched my walkman before trampling down the steps to the kitchen where my mom sat, smoking a slowly disintegrating-to-ash cigarette and playing a game of solitaire. She has to go to work at six. Lucky. She is like that though, happy then suddenly sad. She's been like that since she and my dad got divorced last summer. I don't really care. She muttered something barely audible as I ran out the door to catch my bus.

I caught the bus at the next stop, I was wet and my clothes were sticking to my skin as kids whispered, pointed and laughed at me. Who the hell cares? I made my way to my usual seat, the back of the bus, ignoring the bus driver howling certain words that have four to five letters in them.

I snickered and thought 'people must get tired of staring at me'. Black hurts their eyes, I s'pose. My hair must be a shock too, dyed it orange with black streaks the first day of high school. Endured 'candy corn' the rest of my life.

As I sat down, Envy came up. Everyone who ponders 'Why the effing hell is his hair that color?' gets pounded and can't ponder till their last day of College. Scary, huh? I keep out of it, the girls either love or hate Envy, so they're always talking about him. I repeat, I keep out of it. Envy is big, possesses a morbidly black fashion sense and is taller than I am.

It took me awhile to realize he was standing in front of me, and after peeling off my headphones that were blasting Metallica, St.Anger into my brain, Envy was glowering.

"What's the problem, tree hugger?" I snapped. Envy's hair is green; it's a joke to everyone.

"Shuttup. I'm sitting here, so move unless you find joy in being decapitated." I smirked

"Wow. The Neanderthal can actually fo-o-o-rm words. Impressive."

He narrowed his violet eyes at me. I knew right then and there, I could die. He slid into the seat next to mine and hissed into my ear,

"When we get to school, you'll pay," He winked and tugged a strand of my hair.

"Better run now…" I gulped and he smiled.

The hall had emptied and my only thought was 'Get to class, even if you're early.' I jogged down the lockered hall, the fabric of my tattered, plaid skirt swishing against my thighs. There was nothing in front of me, when I looked, but I found myself tripping. I fell to my knees, my hands breaking my fall.

Envy stepped out of the shadows.

'Oooh. That's gotta hurt, Calcephone. You really SHOULD be careful when you're running.' He grinned wolfishly and I found myself first imagining him sprouting long fangs then the earth opening up to swallow him in molten lava. I then put these thoughts into a cool, cynical and wholly unconcerned smile.

"Very funny, Envy." I got up and dusted myself off. Envy pouted as I walked to the class's door.

"Going SO soon, candy corn? The funs just begun."

I turned and gave him a Dracula worthy vampire smile.

"For once, you're right."

Art class is awesome. I love it. Our teacher is a gawky, tall-like-a-heron-but-with-absolutely-no-grace- fresh out of college guy who is always behind this monstrous huge canvas painting a 'masterpiece'. This is usually a good factor, but not today. As usual I was applying paint to a canvas so it looked like I was really busy.

"Hey candy corn." A familiar voice sneered as I brushed a layer onto the canvas and was so startled my face whacked against the canvas as I jumped, creating a black mark on my face as I swore a blue streak at Envy. When I calmed down, I eyed him suspiciously.

"You've had your fun." I turned and looked at Envy.

"And stop calling me 'candy corn'."

Envy cocked his head, hair swinging.

"Make me." He replied monotonously.

I rolled my eyes. Idiot.

"So Calcephone, you like Zen? You're so stupid. ZEN is so stupid. Feh, I mean 'what is the sound of one hand clapping'?" he had obviously read my shirt. I smiled disarmingly and turned. And slapped him. Right across his lovely, pale face.

He flinched and rubbed his cheek.

"What the hell was that?!" he growled.

I smiled as angelically as you can when you know you're gonna go to hell for what you just did.

"The sound of one hand clapping." I informed him and ran like hell.


	2. Chapter 2

Of course, the next day on the bus, was spent wondering how many ways someone could be killed by someone else who was going to, most DEFINITELY, kill you. One of the pretty girls, along with her pink aura, came simpering up. I mentally groaned at that and almost physically barfed at the pink.

"Sooo, YOU'RE the girl who slapped Envy? Well, you'd just better watch yourself. He's been.. talking about.. Oh, what was it?" She oozes and taps her chin.

'Oh, yes! '100 ways to kill an annoying candycorn'." She laughs too loud as her pink cronies follow suite.

_Crapcrapcrap._ I thought as she gave a little 'smile', RIGHT. That, children, is called a 'sneer'. Anyhow, that is going to scar me for life now. I am REALLY going to play hooky now.. too late.

Envy was sauntering down the aisle, hands in the pockets of his black, baggy pants. He sneered openly at me and slid into the seat behind me. My thoughts now resembled that of one of the really dirty rappers lyrics.

'Tug, tug, tug' My hair is freaking being pulled out of my skull.

I clenched my hands, straightened my posture and endured the never-ending pulling. As soon as we got to school, SOMEONE ,AND OH MY GOD WHO WOULD HAVE DONE THIS??, shoved me, then my backpacks zipper somehow slipped open and I had to pick up my books. As soon as I got in class I got a lecture about putting smoke bombs in peoples desks. Pink girl and Envy high-fived, I shot a death glare at Envy and sat silently, absorbing only what my punishment would be.

"You will be cleaning the classroom with…" He scanned all the names on his chart that were just WAITING to be punished.

"Envy." He announced. I turned a whiter shade of pale, if that's possible. Envy sneered behind me as our teacher, Mr. Ferren by the way, went on and on, droning about comprehending decimal reciprocals. I heard none of this and was just sitting in my chair, wondering again, how many ways you could kill a candy corn.


End file.
